


Grave Conversation

by McRaider



Category: Lethal Weapon (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-12
Updated: 2016-11-12
Packaged: 2018-08-30 13:45:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8535481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McRaider/pseuds/McRaider
Summary: Even as the first connected with his face, Martin knew he'd crossed a line-he'd never been good at making friends, just another reminder of his wife.





	

"Because you've got nothing to love in this world, but yourself" even as Murtaugh said it, he knew it was a terrible thing to say, he wanted to take it back immediately when he saw the look of betrayal in the younger man's face. Then Riggs said something and Roger felt his blood boil.  
"Nice. And you wonder why your kids won't talk to you," the Texan muttered, an instant later he was licking at the spot on his lip where Roger had just cold cocked him. His eyes burned at the truth behind Roger's words, he didn't have anything to love anymore, it had all been ripped away from him before he had a chance to really appreciate it.  
"Don't ever get involved with my family again, is that clear?" Roger growled.  
"Crystal," Martin whispered, before Roger stalked away. He was too angry to realize how cruel he had just been. He'd deal with it later, he decided as he stalked away to go yell at his eldest child.  
Martin sat down at his desk, his jaw ached, his head was starting to pound and for some reason something hurt inside his chest, in a way he couldn't even describe. Taking a breath, well aware of every eye on him. With his eyes forced to the ground he hurried out of the bullpen, all too aware of the whispers, of the mutters of people he'd hoped he was making friends with.  
He wanted to get out, to get away, anything aware from the prying eyes of people who didn't know him, didn't understand what he'd lost. Normally, he'd throw himself into another bar fight, let everyone beat the hell out of him, he didn't care, he needed to be punished, needed to feel pain to forget the pain.  
He drove, he could barely see through the tears threatening to pour down his face. That's how he found himself standing at his wife's gravestone. He knelt down, reaching out with a shaking hand to touch the granite.  
"You're a hard man to find," a soft gentle voice behind him caught him a little off guard. He looked over his shoulder and smiled sadly at Trish.  
"How'd you find me?" he whispered quietly.  
"Turns out we both know the same very important attorney in this city. When Roger came home and started talking about what he said…I realized you could probably use a friend right now."  
"Better not tell Rog that," he replied.  
She sighed and looked down at the stone, she realized on some level she too could be feeling as broken and lost as Martin probably felt ever since his wife died, "Would you tell me about her?" She asked sitting down next to the site, then she saw the other stone, a son.  
He sat down, legs crossed, "She'd have loved you, and you would've loved her. She wasn't as successfully in the business world, she enjoyed her job but it wasn't the love of her life, she didn't light up the same way you do talking about your clients," he smiled for a moment. "She lit up about other things. Like being a mom. She was so excited to be having a little boy."  
"Did you guys pick a name?"  
"She liked Ronald after her father, of course, I wanted Lucas after my granddad," he realized on some level he hadn't even grieved for the lost child yet. How could he, it wasn't like he'd really been a father yet. People always said men didn't become daddies until they held their first child. He'd never been given the chance. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and looked over at her.  
"You would've been a wonderful father," she whispered. "RJ told me what you said to him in the car. Thank you for being there for him when he wasn't comfortable coming to us."  
"Rog hates me."  
She shook her head and smiled, sadness filling her eyes, "Roger is a man of emotions. I think that's why you throw him off sometimes. But, at the end of the day he loves his babies more than words and he saw an ending far graver than what you or I could probably imagine. What he said was hurtful, and I'm so sorry. I know he needs to say it, but believe me he will."  
Martin looked down at the plot again, "It had been a long time since I had family, when she came into my life. I joined the military to get away from a less than great childhood, mom was dead, father…somewhere. My graddaddy had died, I didn't have anyone when I got home. Then I met Miranda by chance. She was doing some work with the VA hospital, and we just clicked."  
"I'm glad someone was there. I wish I'd known you and I could've been there," she wondered what a young Martin had been like, if he'd always been so unhinged, or if it was Miranda's death that had scarred him beyond repair. "I know you're upset, and you have a right to be, but Martin…Roger needs you in his life. He's never had a brother, you bring out the man I knew long before the children, when he wasn't afraid of losing everything. He needs you."  
Martin nodded, still quiet and solemn. Trish sighed, and getting up, she leaned over and pressed a kiss to his hair, "I need you too, Martin. I need someone to remind me to be thankful for all the family I have, you included." With that she stood and walked away, leaving him alone by the graves.  
He scooted between the two stones and laid down, tracing his fingers along the concrete, until his phone rang. All the while, he wished he could have a second chance to go back and undo it all, bring his wife back and give up his life instead of hers. He wished he could pull the damn trigger.


End file.
